


my heart gives you love

by sapphfics



Category: Barbie - All Media Types, Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper (2004)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Character Death, OT4, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphfics/pseuds/sapphfics
Summary: “You-“ Anneliese stops in the corridor, grabbing Erika’s sleeve. “You’re so casual with them?”“Of course I am?” Erika says, as though this is the most normal thing in the world. “Aren’t you?”Anneliese shook her head. “It wouldn’t be right, as their princess, they need to know I’m strong and that I don’t need friends.”But Erika laughs. “Anneliese, I think you must sometimes forget you’re the crown princess and soon to be queen, and can talk to whoever you want, however you want.”Anneliese gasps. “Where have you been all my life?”“Right in town,” Erika reminds her. “In your favourite dress shop.”or: in which the death of queen genevieve brings them back together
Relationships: Anneliese/Dominick/Erika/Julian (Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 103





	my heart gives you love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WoollyLambda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoollyLambda/gifts).
  * Inspired by [What's in a Name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20018521) by [WoollyLambda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoollyLambda/pseuds/WoollyLambda). 



> title from [dirge for two veterans](https://whitmanarchive.org/published/LG/1891/poems/172) by walt whitman

Queen Genevieve dies quietly in the dead of night. 

She is still wearing her dead husband’s wedding ring and her only daughter is clutching her hand. It is a quiet death; peaceful and calm and so befitting of her. She’s been sick for a long time, they all knew this was coming. But Anneliese sobs and Julian holds her and the whole of Gaphate mourns the loss. 

But Anneliese’s mourning is made public and Julian knows that many will criticise her for not crying in front of crowds. Some dare to whisper about it, claiming she poisoned her mother after learning that Preminger was her real father. Some say much worse things. 

(Preminger is still alive, of course, hiding out in Dulcinia. But no one will know until he is dead.) 

Erika and Dominick leave Dulcinia immediately. They move into the castle to help her mourn, and Dulcinia has enough royalty that they will rarely be missed. 

Erika kisses both of their checks upon her return. Dominick stands awkwardly at his wife’s side, as though he’s meeting strangers for the first time. And he is, in all honesty, none of them had much time to get to know each other before their respective weddings. 

“Remember when you told me you would ask me to sing at the palace?” Erika asks. She touches Anneliese’s arm. 

“Of course,” Anneliese nods, dabs a tissue to her watering eye. “We nearly gave poor Julian a heart attack at the sight of us.” 

“I’d like to sing for you all,” Erika says. 

Anneliese will be crowned soon. She will soon have little time for songs and dancing and ball gowns made by future friends. And—

Well, everything would be so much easier, Julian reflects, if Anneliese weren’t royalty. 

It’s a thought he’s had often, more often than he will care to admit. 

-:-

“I still can’t believe the queen is gone,” Erika whispers. “This place feels so…”

“Empty.” Dominick supplies. They’ve closed all the curtains, covered all the paintings and mirrors, so the castle halls are eerie and dark. It makes him reach for his wife’s hand, lean on her, with his injured leg walking is difficult nowadays. 

If he’s entirely honest, Dominick has never much cared for Gaphate. He doesn’t hate it entirely, the views are to die for especially when seen from Anneliese’s balcony, but it’s nothing compared to his beloved Dulcinia. How different his life has turned out since he first arrived. And he never expects to see the kingdom of Gaphate again when he had returned to Dulcinia with his new bride. 

He never expected to see this place again. Once they were wed, Anneliese would be expected to abandon her homeland and live with him in Dulcinea. The queen would have the security of his family’s fortune to keep them afloat from financial ruin and Anneliese would only see her home again once her mother died. After which, their kingdoms would merge with their union. 

But then he met Erika. And Erika holds no royal blood in her, so the kingdoms will remain separate. Perhaps that is for the best. Gaphate already harbours resentment towards a royal family which made corruption within their ranks so apparent that the culprits were arrested at a royal wedding, a royal family that let them descend into extreme poverty, a dead queen who failed to keep them safe and fed. This, Dominick knows, is the most basic of requirements for royals. 

The second he locked eyes with the so called Princess, he knew it wasn’t truly her. He could practically see her ribs through her dress, and Anneliese had only ever worn pink not blue, and Dominick could see the hair at the top of her scalp was falling off slightly. It must be a wig, he told himself, but this is my wife. It does not do good to harbour suspicions before the honeymoon. 

And she sang to her cat. Wolfie is old and tired now, and is walking much slower but still barks like a pack of bloodhounds when the need arises. 

As they walk around the castle, through the gardens where they had sung, Erika is humming. It calms both of them. 

His own parents were alive and well. He can’t understand how Princess Anneliese must feel, an orphan now. But he can sympathise, she’s a sweet girl, deserves better than what life has handed her. And Dominick had spent the only time he had been in the late Queen’s presence in disguise. He supposes he should feel ashamed of deceiving her, but he doesn’t. The disguise wasn’t to deceive, it was to intrigue.

And Erika was intrigued, he knows, despite her misgivings. 

He squeezes her hand again, reminding himself of reality. 

-:- 

_When Anneliese is rescued, Dominick will marry her._

This is what Erika would repeat this to herself every night because she would not entertain the thought of her friend’s death.

And another, meaner thought, nagging at her whispering, _My parents didn’t die for me to be a foreign king’s mistress._

And she’s not the king’s mistress, she knows, she is his wife. His queen. His beloved singer. His beloved. 

Though she will never say it, Erika has grown increasingly uncomfortable having staff in her household. 

She hadn’t brought much with her when she left for Dulcinia. Only the blue dress she had worn for years and several of Anneliese’s gowns that Anneliese insists didn’t suit her fair hair colour so Erika would be forced to accept her charity. She was determined to prove her worth to the people of Dulcinia by doing all the housework herself. 

(Or so she thinks until she sees how big Dominick’s castle actually is.) 

She prefers to see them as friends her husband happens to pay to help around the house. And so she treats them as such. She rises their paychecks frequently because living with nothing for so long has taught her how much a small glimmer of hope can mean. 

She also gives them private concerts, especially before she left for several years, testing out new songs on them. The rich may fund the theatres she sings in but it is the people who adore her. 

Anneliese finds this bizarre, she knows, but Anneliese finds a lot of things Erika does bizarre even though she won’t say it. 

Erika is reminded again of their joint wedding. She had spent weeks beforehand hand stitching the dresses, taking Anneliese’s measurements. Her skin was so soft, so unlike Erika’s own covered in calluses. 

“Do you still keep the wig you were using?” Anneliese asks, offhandedly one morning. 

Erika nearly chokes her tea. “Why do you ask?”

“Julian wants to make an effigy of me,” Anneliese says and then she laughs. “I’m kidding, I was just wondering.” 

“I think the guards burnt it,” Erika recalls. “When I got caught. So I couldn’t do it again.”

“Would you?”

“For you? Without question.” 

-:- 

Julian has always been cautious around Dominick ever since the queen first spoke of the arrangement. Not only was he a pauper in the presence of a prince in disguise, but he was angry at what his arrival meant for both his life and Anneliese’s. He is trying to put this behind him. He is, truly. 

_He is quite handsome,_ Julian had thought. _He and Anneliese will have...lovely children._

Julian knows what the kingdom wants; a son of Dominick and Anneliese with her eyes and his looks. A strong man to lead them, something they haven’t had since Anneliese’s own father had passed. Julian had been there for that, too. Everyone remembers being awoken by Queen Genevieve’s screams. Everyone had someone who was lost to the plague, but the late King is the only one who is martyred. 

“Hello Julian,” Announces Dominick. 

“What? No grand disguises this time?” Julian jokes. He lightly jabs Dominick in the ribs. 

“A funeral is no place for disguises,” Dominick says. “Though I gather you had some experience with them yourself. You knew it was me.”

“Of course I did,” Julian admits. “Only the late queen didn’t know, but that was only because I stole her glasses.”

“I’ll have to get better at disguises then,” Dominick concedes. 

“I was thinking,” He tells Anneliese later as the last candle burns. He twines a lock of her soft blonde hair around his forefinger. “I should write a book. About you. About our lives.”

“What would you call it? Teacher’s pet?” 

“The Princess and the Pauper,” Julian replies. “It would be through our own words, telling our own stories. No one would forget us.” 

“Everyone will remember you,” Anneliese whispers and kisses him. “But none of them are me.” 

-:- 

Anneliese knows that Erika has a way with people which she doesn’t. She isn’t jealous, not really, it’s just something she’s noticed over the long time they’ve spent in each other’s company. 

It’s just, Anneliese reflects, that Erika has always made a habit to be nice to maids. 

Anneliese knows it isn’t that her mother didn’t want her to have friends, but that her mother wanted her to have friends in high places. As the only girl and only child, she would have to find a rich man to secure the family line. She needs connections, people who will get her somewhere. 

But her mother is dead now, and has been for several months. And the castle staff have yet to depart. 

It’s hard to adjust without her. 

Her mother had a habit of firing staff who got too friendly with Anneliese, except for Julian but her mother hardly saw their time alone together. Not that they had much when she was younger, what with all the lessons and lunches and lords vying for her hand. 

“Good morning, Mary!” Erika says brightly. “How is your husband doing?”

To Anneliese’s shock, Mary’s face lights up. “He’s doing much better, Erika. Thank you for asking.” 

“You-“ Anneliese stops in the corridor, grabbing Erika’s sleeve. “You’re so casual with them?” 

“Of course I am?” Erika says, as though this is the most normal thing in the world. “Aren’t you?” 

Anneliese shook her head. “It wouldn’t be right, as their princess, they need to know I’m strong and that I don’t need friends.” 

But Erika laughs. “Anneliese, I think you must sometimes forget you’re the crown princess and soon to be queen, and can talk to whoever you want, however you want.” 

Anneliese gasps. “Where have you been all my life?” 

“Right in town,” Erika reminds her. “In your favourite dress shop.” 

-:- 

Anneliese doesn’t like to sleep alone anymore. She fears another attempted kidnapping, or worse, another attempt on her life. She often sleeps with a large science book within arm’s reach to ward off any potential assailants. 

Since her marriage, Julian is usually there to comfort her when she has nightmares. Just as she is there to comfort him when he wakes from dreams of darkness and drowning and her screams. But Julian isn’t here tonight and Anneliese is so exhausted. 

Erika and Dominick sleep in the room across from her, so Anneliese knocks on their door. Erika is brushing her hair, humming to herself, a new song in honour of the dead queen. 

And one night, she asks Erika to sleep with her. Julian is still in the library and she knows him well enough to know he won’t be coming back for hours. And she is tired. So tired. 

It’s late when Erika confesses. She thinks she is dreaming. Pinches herself. 

“You love me?” Anneliese whispers.

Erika strokes a hand across her face, brushing hair out of her eyes. “Anneliese, I committed treason and I lived in your skin and your home for weeks,” Erika says. “I faced the executioner's axe for you! Of course I love you!” 

“Tomorrow I’ll be crowned Queen,” Anneliese reminds her. “I love you. And tonight...I would like all of us to be together. Once. We can never speak of it again but…” 

And they do. 

None ever knows exactly what occurs that night, and perhaps, that is for the best.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://sapphfics.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/lesbosansastark) if you feel so inclined! let’s be friends <333


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